


You're The Meat, I'm The Cannibal

by Zinthr



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Cannibalism, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Fluff, Guro, Hard vore, I try to fit in a bit of humor but its really not my strong suit, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Not Medically Accurate, POV Dave Strider, POV Second Person, Possession, Self-Sacrifice, Vore, Wendigo, Yes this is gore and fluff sue me, a dick gets touched but it's not a sex thing so don't worry, curse, no death though don't worry, there's a huge chance John would have actually died from this but whatever, there's really none of that here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 06:06:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10938549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zinthr/pseuds/Zinthr
Summary: They had researched this for months now, and they finally have enough information. They know what they have to do, to fix Dave.Is John willing to do it?((AKA The wendigo fic that nobody asked for. Sickly sweet fluff and also gore.))





	You're The Meat, I'm The Cannibal

It’s awkward when you get home, knowing exactly what needs to be done. The long nights of researching and googling and trips to eight different libraries are finally over, but the result is definitely near the worst case scenario. 

Cannibalism. 

You’d known it was gonna be something like this. Everything you’d learned was leading to it, pointing neon red arrows at this most logical of conclusions - to banish the beast, you must feed him. 

You really don't want to do this. But, god, you’re so tired. 

You’re tired of having nightmares of people shouting at you, “Beast, beast! Wendigo, wendigo!”. You’re tired of seeing antlers in every mirror you walk past, of the sunlight hurting your eyes and skin and forcing you to become nocturnal. 

You’re tired of being hungry all the time, never being able to eat enough for it to go away. Of being so hungry it hurts, it hurts so bad you can barely walk most days unless you smell meat. Of being so skinny that your friends are all worried, that they won't stop calling John and pleading him to get you to eat more. Of feeling your mouth water whenever you’re near people, of biting John till he bleeds by accident and thinking that his blood is the best thing you’ve ever tasted. 

It's been four whole months now, and it really needs to stop, before you do something you regret. The hunger is getting worse and worse every day, so if you don't cure this now...you may kill John. And that is definitely not okay. 

The two of you talked about this, about a week ago, when you figured that there was really no way around you having to eat some ‘longpig’, so to speak. You said that you could never kill someone for this, and you definitely don't have enough money for illegal deep-web cannibal purchasing, could you ever find a site for it. John agreed with you, although while doubting the existence of such places on the deep web - “You can't find snuff films or cannibal shops on the deep web, Dave! It doesn't work like that!” - and he suggested an alternative. You eat part of him. 

You of course freaked out and tried to jump ship, but he managed to bodily force you away from the door. He’s really much more jacked than you give him credit for. He ensured you that it wouldn't be fatal unless the hospital suddenly ran out of ambulances, and said that he really wouldn’t mind giving up an arm or a leg for you, so long as you’d marry him afterwards. 

Yep. He proposed, while you were busy snotting over the thought of killing him. Rude. 

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by John saying he’s gonna go get the tarp. You nod, walking over to the couch. You’re shaky, and having trouble staying upright, and wondering if you’re really gonna be able to do this. Your heart tells you no, but the growling in your stomach says otherwise. 

You’re just wondering whether John will really be okay with this when you hear a loudly-shouted Ta-Da!, and look up to see that John has arrived, completely naked aside from the tarp wrapped around him toga-style. You lose your shit. 

“John, wha-what the fuck, man??” You manage through your snorts and giggles, a hand held over your face. He smiles wide and laughs that dorky laugh of his and for a moment it's just like old times again, the two of you having some dorky fun before ordering pizza and making out on the couch. You’ve been dating for four years but it's only now that you notice you’ve really never seen anything more beautiful than his smile. You feel yourself begin to tear up as you take your shades off, and quickly cover your face with your hands again. 

But he’s right there now, taking your hands in his and leaving kisses all over your face. “Dave, I...I want you to know I was serious, about not giving a damn about losing a limb for you. A-and, about...heh, about marrying you. Nothing would make me happier. I, uhh…” he fumbled for a moment, before reaching into the couch and pulling out a ring box. “ I got us these, so uhh...if you want to. If…I guess I've got to say it formally, huh, don't I…” he mumbles as he pops the box open, revealing a beautiful pair of silver rings, one with a sapphire surrounded by little green stones and one with a ruby surrounded by little black ones. He pulls out the blue ring and falls to one knee, grinning up at you. 

“David Elizabeth Strider, will you please be mine, for the rest of our lives?” If you weren't before, you’re definitely crying now as you nod over and over again, hands shaking as he puts the ring on you. He slides the other onto his finger, before tossing the box aside and kissing you gently. He presses his forehead against yours and whispers a thousand little ‘I love you’s’ that you’re too choked up to repeat. 

He slides onto the couch next to you, and holds you tightly until you’ve calmed down enough to speak. 

“So, uhh…” You begin, shakily, before clearing your throat. “So how are we going to do this? Are we gonna cut your, uhh, well I guess it’ll have to be a leg because your arms are too small, but, are we gonna cut your leg off clean? And I eat it while you’re at the hospital?” You ramble off, looking at his face the whole time. 

He seems deep in thought for a moment, before shaking his head. “I don’t want to, uhh, lose a leg for nothing, y’know? So I, well, I think it’ll be better if you just eat off of me. While it's still attached. It'll hurt more, but...it’ll probably be more convincing to the spirit. Plus we can explain it as, like, a dog attack to the hospital.” He seems determined, so as much as you hate the thought of causing him more pain, you nod in agreement. 

He looks down for a moment before nodding, and standing up. He pulls the tarp off and lays it on the ground, taping the corners down before sitting down in the middle. If it wasn't such a dire situation it would look quite hilarious - John Egbert, your dorky John Egbert, sitting naked in the middle of a taped-down black tarp in the middle of your kitchen, patting the tarp in front of him to get you to sit with him. 

But the situation is dire, and you only have a passing thought of how strange it looks before you’re settling into the floor in front of him, proximity making your stomach growl with renewed vigor. 

“Dave?” John says, voice wavering a bit. “Promise me something.”

“Anything.” You reply instantly, staring into his eyes. 

“I’m, well, I'm bad with pain. I'm gonna scream a lot. I'm gonna kick you, and fist your hair, and maybe punch you some. But don't stop. Not, not that I really think you'll be able to but don't, don't try. Don't tear yourself up over it. I want this. I mean I really wish it didn't have to happen, but knowing I can help you… I want this, Dave. I want to help you. Don't be guilty.”

You freeze up for a second, knowing this is your weak point, knowing that he knows it too. But you also know how much he really, truly cares about you. You nod, and press forward to kiss him. “I'll try, John. I. Any promise but I swear that I’ll try.” You murmur just before your lips meet his. 

It's a chaste kiss, but you can feel your adrenaline begin to charge into overdrive at the proximity, and have to fight to resist the urge to bite through his soft, delicious lips. 

You kiss your way down his body, lingering for a moment on his left pec before heading down over his stomach. “Dave, please don't try to give me a blowjob before this. I really don't need to lose my dick along with my leg.” 

You snort, blow a raspberry into his belly-button, and move a little further town. As you reach his hips you pause, flash him a devious grin, and press one single quick kiss onto the side of his flaccid dick before quickly ducking out of the way of a kick. He yells your name in anger, but quickly settles back down. 

Joking aside, you’re really having trouble right now. Your vision is blurring, your mouth filling with saliva. Your teeth feel too big, too sharp - you can feel them cutting your tongue and cheeks. You shuffle further down, laying your body over his lower legs and trapping his knees. You grab his thighs and hold still for a moment, mouth open. You hear John’s breathing pick up, then hold in anticipation. 

...This is it.  
You give in. 

It all comes forth in an adrenaline rush, hunger and beastly instincts and everything you’d ever held back in your life. You sink your teeth into his thigh quickly, clamping and shaking like a dog to tear the piece off. You feel warmth on your teeth, a gush then squirt of blood. You had been expecting, hoping, that when it got down to it you would be in a hunger haze and be unable to real discern the details of what you were doing but, oh, you were so wrong. 

Everything feels hyper-detailed, the sensations stronger and more clear than ever before. The taste is beautiful, textured and heavy in your mouth and better than anything you've ever had. You hear him shout, loud and shrill, and his legs begin to jerk and shake under you. 

You couldn't stop if you wanted too, though.  
And right now, the last thing you want to do is stop this. 

You dig in. Again, again, again - he’s crying now as you work your way down to his knee, feeling him clutch and grasp into your antlers. You're too busy to wonder when those became real. You crunch his knee-cap with ease, inhuman jaw strength second nature to you, and find the taste of marrow a whole new kind of delicious. You tear and snap and crunch down till there's no knee left - just some skin and muscle connecting. 

His shouting stills to sobbing as you work on his shin, which is no doubt unable to feel anything at this point. You tear strips of flesh off like jerky, honey to god slurp one of them, and crunch through the bone to suck out the marrow. When all the marrow’s gone, you go ahead and eat the bone - in its own way it's just as delicious. 

The little cuts your getting from the bone shards seem to be healing as fast as they can be made - that, or you're too far gone mentally to feel any sort of pain. You focus on your stomach for a moment, feel that sweet weight and fullness that you haven't felt in so long - and suddenly everything is rushing back to you. 

John. 

You look up, see him squinching his eyes shut and sobbing, grip on your antlers weak, and you know you have to hurry this up. 

You grab what's left of the lower portion of his leg - just a foot and ankle now - and without thinking, you shove it in your mouth whole. You press, feeling the tours enter your throats and stretch, and stretch, and your press some more - barely remembering to swallow to help it down. Blood is pouring from the stump, lubricating your throat and joining the mess that covers your front. You gag and wrench but you get it in, you get it down - feeling your throat stretch and pull all the way down till there's a heavy weight resting in your gut. 

Your stomach is more than a bit distended at this point, far fuller than it's ever been, and after not having eaten for several months. You’re rather startled it isn't hurting, actually. 

You return to his thigh and quickly tear off more chunks, and the screaming starts again. You swallow down as much as you can as quick as you can, a race against the proverbial clock, and finally - finally - it's done. His leg is entirely inside of you, and he’s passed out on the tarp. 

You shake his limp hands off of your antlers and scramble for the phone. You can only hope you aren't too late…

 

\------------

 

The silence in the waiting room is deafening. Your head hangs heavy, with guilt and the weight of these antlers that haven't left yet. People only seem to see them if they're looking for something odd - the EMT’s saw them, but the four other people in the waiting room and the several nurses haven't seemed to notice them at all. 

The wait is excruciating, the not knowing. You hope he’s all right but you just don't know, no one’s told you anything. You're certain that they didn't believe you when you told them there was a dog attack - you wouldn't believe you either, what with the only wounds being on his leg - so your unsure if your going to be arrested or not. 

The only good thing about this wait is that there’s people around you, passing by you and sitting near you - so you can tell for certain that your healed. There's no lurch of hunger when you smell them, no feral instinct to maul and take and consume. 

After several long hours, they let you into his room. He’s on the bed with an IV and a lot of bandages a bit of a lab obvious to pain-killer induced high, but he grins when he see’s you and that's all you needed to see. 

You rush the the bed, collapsing next to it and grasping his hand and you totally don't start to tear up, nope, not you. 

“I love you, Dave.” Is the first thing out of his mouth. You grin and press your head into the blankets, feeling your antlers rest on his remaining leg. 

You have time to figure out about those later. 

For now, you rest.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Sharon Needles' song, Wendigo. 
> 
> I was thinking of writing an epilogue for this of the wedding scene, and describing what their life is like after the events of the fic, but idk. If anyone is interested in that, let me know! ^-^  
> Not Beta read, btw. I didn't even really proofread it haha.
> 
> Like this fic? Hate it? Yell at me in the comments!  
> Or coem shout at me over at my Tumblr, PaintedDoll. Whichever.


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